


misunderstanding

by escapismandsharpobjects



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: "I Didn't Mean It", Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapismandsharpobjects/pseuds/escapismandsharpobjects
Summary: febuwhump day 14: "i didn't mean it." Monroe gets hurt while investigating with Nick and says something he regrets.
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt & Monroe, Nick Burkhardt & Rosalee Calvert, Nick Burkhardt & Rosalee Calvert & Monroe (Grimm), Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissCrazyWriter321](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/gifts).



> hi hi!! i hope you like this fic!! caitlyn i hope i did your suggestion justice, i had a really good time writing it, thanks for the request!!!   
> this takes place...call it during season 3. after season 2 anyway.

“This feels illegal,” Monroe says, stepping into the house after Nick. 

“It’s abandoned,” Nick replies, carefully pushing open a closet door and shining a light into it. “We’re fine.”

Monroe shakes his head at Nick’s back. He’s usually fine with this kind of stuff, but he’s had a weird feeling all day that he’s been unable to shake, so doing this feels like playing with fire. Still, he knows logically that they’ll be fine, so he gets down to business and breaks off from Nick to peek into the rotting wood of the kitchen cupboards. 

The two of them complete a thorough search of the downstairs area, then head upstairs, Monroe leading the way to what is probably a bedroom. He opens the door with a loud  _ creak  _ and steps in, Nick close behind him. 

He takes a step, and then hears a scuffing noise, and then there’s a hand on his back, pushing into him, and he falls forward before he has a chance to regain his balance. 

He lands hard, left hand folding underneath him with a  _ snap  _ that he actually  _ feels,  _ and then there’s a blinding pain, and he shouts, rolling over onto his back, cradling the broken hand to his chest. 

He looks up straight into Nick’s eyes, feeling tears of pain prick into his own. Through them, the blurry shape of Nick appears fairly unconcerned, and Monroe finds himself becoming angry along with his growing pain. Nick had been right behind him. Nick had pushed him. Nick had  _ hurt  _ him. 

“Are you okay?” Nick asks, and Monroe laughs out loud. Is he okay?  _ Really?  _

“What do you  _ think,” _ he snaps, and through the tears in his eyes he can see Nick move back slightly.  _ Good, _ he thinks.  _ Leave me alone. _

Nick’s hand reaches out, and then he’s touching Monroe’s hurting hand, touching the injury  _ he  _ caused, and Monroe pulls it away sharply, uncaring of the pain. He staggers to his feet and sees Nick mirror the movement. 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to see if -”

“Shut up,” Monroe says, feeling a growl edge its way into his voice.  _ “Shut up.” _

“Monroe, please, I -”

“I said  _ shut up!” _ Monroe shouts at him, shoving him backwards with all of his strength. He sees Nick’s body slam into the wall, hears his head connect with a loud  _ thump, _ and before Nick has time to react, Monroe’s on him, pinning him to the wall with his uninjured arm. 

“Don’t touch me,” he says, and there’s no mistaking the growl in his voice now. 

Nick nods jerkily, and there’s a look of something on his face which Monroe is in no shape to decipher.

His mind is still reeling with pain and with anger, the former feeding into the latter like coal into a fire. Nick had hurt him, had pushed him down, had broken his damn wrist at the very least. He needs to make Nick hurt too. 

He presses the other man to the wall with even more strength than before, watches his eyes grow wide at the pressure, then says, “I don’t know what I expected from a  _ Grimm,” _ spitting the last word from his mouth like it’s poison. 

He sees Nick flinch back as though Monroe has physically hit him. Satisfied with that reaction, Monroe lets go of him, then turns and walks out of the room, down the stairs, out the door, and to his car, which they'd driven here in. 

He hears Nick come running after him, shouting something that Monroe vehemently doesn’t listen to. He doesn’t want to hear whatever it is Nick is saying. All he can think about is the pain and the anger coursing through his body in equal measure.

He pulls away from the house and drives himself, one-handed, to the emergency room, where they run some x-rays, splint his wrist, give him some pain meds and a prescription for more, and tell him he’d better call someone to pick him up. 

\--

By the time he and Rosalee get home, he’s starting to feel a good deal less pained and angry, and he can’t stop replaying what had happened in his mind. With a clearer head, he’s starting to feel bad about the things he’d said, but he can’t help wondering whether or not they’d been justified. Nick had pushed him down. He feels he’s got a right to be angry about that.

The two hadn’t spoken on the drive, but as soon as they’re inside, Rosalee’s bustling him onto the couch with a mug of tea and insisting he tell her what happened. 

He tells her, not leaving anything out, and when he’s finished, she sits there for a second, looking deep in thought. 

“You said he pushed you?” she asks, and he’s grateful she doesn’t sound upset. Just curious, like she wants to gather all the facts. 

“Well, it  _ was  _ his hand on my back and me falling on the ground, so I’d say yeah, he pushed me.”

“And you’re  _ sure  _ it wasn’t an accident?”

He...hadn’t considered that. But how could it have been?

“He could have tripped,” Rosalee says, “and stumbled into you.”

“Have you ever seen him trip?” Monroe asks. “He’s got those Grimm reflexes. I’m pretty sure they prevent him from tripping.”

Rosalee shrugs. “He’s still human, Monroe. And besides, has he  _ ever  _ hurt you on purpose before?”

She’s got a point, he knows. He really wishes she didn’t. What he’d said to Nick...he’s already regretting it, but if it had been  _ completely  _ unfounded? If it’d been an accident…? He doesn’t want to think about what Nick must be feeling.

\--

The two of them sit on the couch for several minutes. Rosalee’s eyes haven’t left Monroe. He’d told her what he’d said in the heat of the moment, and she knows as well as he does that he hadn’t meant it, and further, that he’d been under a horrible cocktail of pain and anger when he’d said it, but Nick doesn’t know any of that. She wonders where he is, how he’s feeling. She  _ worries.  _

Outside, a heavy rain begins to fall, rather appropriately for the mood, she thinks. Monroe’s half asleep beside her, courtesy of whatever pain meds they’d given him at the emergency room. She’s considering calling Nick and asking him to come over to talk about everything, and has her hand on her phone about to unlock it when there’s a soft knock on the door. 

She stands up, careful not to wake Monroe, and heads for the door, pulling it open to reveal Nick, dripping wet and shivering, looking like he’s about to cry, which makes her want to cry. 

She opens the door a bit wider, reaching out a hand. “Come in, Nick. You must be freezing.”

He backs away from her, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna...not gonna bother you,” he says, and Rosalee hates it. He’s never before shied away from coming right on in to their house. He’s  _ always  _ welcome, and he knows that. So the fact that he’s standing on the porch, refusing to come in despite clearly being soaked and freezing, tells her how much he must be hurting.

“Listen,” she says, stepping out onto the porch with him. “Monroe told me what happened.”

He takes another step away from her, like he’s afraid she’ll be mad at him too. She sighs and follows him, staring at him resolutely until he looks back at her. 

“He didn’t mean what he said, you know that, right?”

Nick shakes his head minutely. “You weren’t there,” he whispers. 

“No, I wasn’t,” she agrees. “And so far, I’ve only heard Monroe’s side of the story. You want to maybe tell me what happened for you?”

He looks like he’s going to refuse, but eventually he speaks, voice low. “We were in an abandoned house. Not really for a case...just a hunch. I asked Monroe to come with me, and we went there early afternoon. We looked around downstairs, and then we went upstairs. Monroe was ahead of me. He went into a bedroom...I went behind him. There was a board sticking up from the floor, and he stepped over it without noticing but my foot hit it. I fell, and, and I reached out to try and get my balance and my hands touched Monroe but it was too late and I couldn’t stop myself from falling into him. He fell and I couldn’t stop it. I got myself out of the way so I wouldn’t fall on him, and then he was screaming and holding his wrist and I tried to help him and he wouldn’t let me.” Nick says all this incredibly quickly, breathing hard when he finishes. 

“And he said -”

Nick shakes his head, silencing her. 

“Nick, you know he didn’t mean it.”

Nick shrugs, and she can see in his eyes that he’d taken what Monroe had said to heart, that he’d been hurt. Which is completely fair, especially given his side of the story. 

“He didn’t mean them,” she says, a statement of fact that leaves no room to question it. “He didn’t know that you’d tripped, and he was hurting and upset and confused, and he took that out, misguidedly, on you. He already told me he regrets what he said, and if you come inside, he can tell you himself.”

Nick shrugs again, and Rosalee decides she’s had enough of that. She grabs his wrist and pulls him forcibly inside, leaving him dripping on the floor while she grabs some towels and dry clothes. 

“I’m fine,” he tries to insist, when she places a stack of Monroe’s clothes and two thick towels into his arms. 

“You’re  _ shaking, _ Nick,” she says, and points him to the bathroom without another word. 

While he’s changing, Rosalee heads into the kitchen, brewing three mugs of tea. She’s in the middle of pouring the water when she hears Monroe stir on the couch. 

“Rosalee?”

She walks over to him, leaving the tea to steep. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he says. “Who’s here?”

“Nick.”

He winces. “How is he?”

She tells him honestly. “He’s hurt. And confused. It was an accident, Monroe. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“And I hurt him,” Monroe sighs. “Where is he?”

“Changing.”

He looks at her quizzically.

“He was soaking wet. I think he walked here in the rain.”

Monroe sighs again. “I really messed all this up, huh?” he asks. 

“A little,” Rosalee says, “but you didn’t mean to. He’ll understand.”

“I hope.”

A minute later, Nick emerges from the bathroom in a thin t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, both Monroe’s, both too big for him. His hair is still wet, dripping occasionally down his forehead. He’s still shivering slightly, Rosalee notes, and he looks altogether too small and too miserable for her liking. 

“Sit,” she tells him, standing up from her own spot on the couch to get the tea. 

Nick sits on the couch, at the opposite end from Monroe, not meeting his eyes. They both speak at the same time.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rosalee sets down the mugs in front of them, then curls up in an armchair with her own mug, silently observing.

“Why are  _ you  _ sorry?” Monroe asks. 

“I  _ hurt  _ you,” Nick says, like he can’t believe Monroe doesn’t know. 

“Did you do it on purpose?”

Nick stares at him for a second, eyes wide. “On  _ purpose? _ Why would I ever hurt you on purpose?” 

_ He should be angry, _ Monroe thinks.  _ Why isn’t he angry? _

He just looks  _ sad. _ “I would  _ never  _ hurt you on purpose,” he says, looking at Monroe like he’s desperate for him to believe it. “I tripped and I fell into you, and before I could do anything you fell too. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“No, man,” Monroe says, scooting closer to Nick. “I’m sorry. I was hurting and I hurt you, too. I’m sorry.”

Nick nods, not meeting his eyes. A single shiver runs through his body. 

“Hey.”

Nick doesn’t look at him.

_ “Nick. _ Look at me.”

Nick’s eyes meet his, reluctantly. 

“What I said...I didn’t mean it. I have  _ never  _ expected to get hurt by you because you’re a Grimm. I shouldn’t have said that, and I really wish I could take it back. But I can’t, so I’m telling you I didn’t mean it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good,” Monroe says, and he knows all this may be about to turn super awkward, what with the important conversation out of the way and the two of them (or at least him, at any rate), not entirely sure where they stand. 

“Can I stay?” Nick asks, before they can reach an awkward silence. “Just until the rain stops,” he adds quickly. “Or I can go, if you… I can leave. But I’d rather not walk home in the rain.”

Monroe doesn’t know which part of that to focus on first: the actual question, the hesitancy in Nick’s voice when he’d asked it, the fact that he’d thought he had to ask it at all, the fact that he apparently  _ had  _ walked here…

“Of course,” Rosalee answers for him.

“Yeah, buddy, you know you never have to ask,” Monroe chimes in, deciding that everything else he’d wondered can wait for another time. 

“Thank you,” Nick says, relief evident in his voice. Monroe pulls him into a one-armed hug, frowning at the residual coldness he can feel on Nick’s skin. He holds on a little longer than he normally would, hoping to warm Nick up a bit, but eventually pulls away, patting Nick’s arm. 

“We good?” he asks, wanting to make sure they’re really okay. 

Nick answers him immediately, almost smiling. “We’re good.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading this!!! now it is again time for a bit of Me News, which i believe is fitting...i'm going to the pnw (mostly portland) next month to look at colleges(safely, obv)! i'm super excited to go and maybe even see some of where grimm was filmed? we will see. anyhow i am so thrilled about that. but yeah i hope you enjoyed this fic, please let me know what you think!!!


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